A WALK BY THE RIVER by CHARLOTTE SMITH

Let us walk where reeds are growing,
By the alders in the mead;
Where the crystal streams are flowing,
In whose waves the fishes feed.

There the golden carp is laving,
With the trout, the perch, and bream;
Mark! their flexile fins are waving,
As they glance along the stream.

Now they sink in deeper billows,
Now upon the surface rise;
Or from under roots of willows,
Dart to catch the water-flies.

'Midst the reeds and pebbles hiding,
See the minnow and the roach;
Or by water-lillies gliding,
Shun with fear our near approach.

Do not dread us, timid fishes,
We have neither net nor hook;
Wanderers we, whose only wishes
Are to read in nature's book.

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